Forever and Almost Always
by Identity-Unknown
Summary: Bound to a cursed coin from Isla de Muerta, Jack finds immortality highly over-rated - especially when one can't taste the rum! Facing lonliness and tragedy, some modern-day Turner's seek to break his curse - and 'find him a girl'. JS/OC M for future ch.
1. Prologue

**Forever and Almost Always**

**Author:** IdentityUnknown

**Prologue**

"Jack Sparrow! Ye' have played me false for the last time!"

Even faced with certain death and dismemberment by the comely - though furious - island enchantress before him, Jack could not stay his need to correct her.

"That's 'captain' Jack Sparrow, luv," he stated with clasped hands, and what he hoped was his most charming smile.

The Enchantress, a one-time lover of his, and her favor the reason he'd escaped death inumerable times over the years, almost scorched him with the very real fire blazing from her exotic, tilted eyes. Her long, living, sea-green hair, wrapped with shells and other trinkets, tossed in the tempest surrounding her, barely covering her most interesting womanly parts, and she reached out an accusing hand, pointing a taloned finger at him.

"Ye' have been under my protection for nigh on two decades of your short human years, Jack - but no more! Your devil's luck has done expired, and ye' shall have nothing more from me!"

"I understand, luv, and I deserve it, I admit it, but give me a chance to explain - " Jack spoke quickly, but the Enchantress shut his mouth for him. His dark eyes widened under the sudden restriction of his lips, and he vainly tried to open them - being unable to speak was quite the shock for him.

The Enchantress smirked, her eyes still fiery. "Not one more word from that polished silver-tongue of yours, Sparrow. Ye' are too clever by half, and I'll not have you charming me out of handing down your punishment!"

At the word 'punishment', Jack made a very muffled exclaimation, and then gave her a 'Who, me?' look.

"I remember the boy ye' once were, Jack Sparrow," the Enchantress said fondly, and then frowned suddenly. "I see little of him in ye' now, that brave, willful child. Ye' set out to become a pirate, and that ye' accomplished too well. Ye' lie, and ye' loot, and ye' steal -you're greedy, an' selfish, an' ye' break hearts an' promises as easily and as often as ye' break open a bottle of rum." She shook her head, looking almost sad. "Ye' even broke your promise to be faithful to me, Jack. Me! _Ye' dare!"_

Jack flailed his hands wildly, rigorously trying to speak, but she ignored him.

"Ye' can sail the world, Jack, but ye' can't run away from the person ye' are in your heart. I know ye' can still be a good man...when ye' care to. Ye' may even be able to love one other than yourself, someday." The smoldering fire died, leaving behind the iridescent blank whiteness of her heavily-lashed eyes.

"Perhaps _I_ am bein' selfish, cursin' ye' in such a way," she sighed, and Jack's expression turned to one of pure panic at the word 'curse'. He dropped his head and shoulders, and slowly turned, intent on sneaking off, only to find he couldn't take more than a single step away. His eyes dropped to his legs, and he quickly bent down, trying desperately to yank his knees into movement.

The Enchantress finally noticed his antics, and she made a sound of disgust in her throat. "Aye, I can see that I am the fool - what other kind of person would be saddened to see the back of one such as ye'? And yet I cannot fathom of a world without ye' in it, my love."

Jack whirled around hopefully at the endearment, and placed his hands together in a pleading manner, his dark eyes looking at her soulfully.

The Enchantress moved forward and put her hand on his rough, warm cheek. His eyelashes dropped, barely hiding the glint of triumph in them as he lowered his head to kiss her.

She allowed the kiss, for she truly did love the deceitful sod, and then she pulled back, and slapped his beautiful, smug face as hard as she could.

Jack's head snapped back, and it took him a moment to right it and look back at her. The stunned look in his brown eyes told her she finally had his attention - in all the years he'd known her, she'd never before struck him.

The Enchantress stepped back again, her chest hurting as she stared at him. "_That_ was for breaking my heart," she whispered, and Jack had the grace to look shamed for an instant.

"And_ this_ is my last gift to you, Jack Sparrow," she continued, raising her hand to show him what was in it. She could feel her own blood chill at the expression on his face as he realized what it was she intended for him.

Jack gritted his teeth, and moved back as far as he could as she reached out toward him, grimacing as she placed a heavy golden coin on a chain around his neck.

The Enchantress watched as he glanced down at the coin resting against his bare, lean chest, and then looked up at her, his expression torn between bitterness and horror. Bitterness because he'd never believed she could hurt him so, and horror because he knew the cursed item hanging around his neck may as well have been the noose he'd always managed to avoid, and his future an adventure into hell.

"Ye' have what ye' always wanted, now, Jack," she told him ruefully, already beginning to vanish into tendrils of a ghostly mist. To be the immortal 'Captain Jack Sparrow'."

Able to speak at last, Jack's lips twisted into an unfeeling smile, and he asked, "Aye, ye've given me forever, luv...and that's not all. It's not going to be an easy task trying to return this to a chest on a sunken island, savvy?"

The Enchantress was only an outline in the mist now. "The island is long gone, Jack, along with all the rest of the cursed gold. There is only one way to break the curse on _that_ coin."

Fingering the smooth skull embossed on the coin, Jack looked down at it and gave a harsh laugh. "Of course it's not tha' easy. Wouldn't be a punishment if it were, 'ay?" He looked up with arched brows, but the Enchantress was gone, along with the sun, and the stretch of darkening beach around him was suddenly much less welcoming than when he'd first arrived. A strong gust of wind nudged him, but was of little comfort, for he could no longer feel if it was cool or warm, nor smell the briny sea upon it.

Jack sighed, and sank to his wobbly knees in the sand, and lifted a hand to the new numbness of his cheek.

"S'pose I deserved tha'."

_**Disclaimer:** I do not own PotC, or it's related characters._


	2. Chapter 1

**Forever and Almost Always**

**Chapter One**

_St. Augustine, Fl, July 2009_

She was scared to death.

What had she been thinking? Moving to a new state, a new city, albeit one she _kind of _knew her way around, on little more than a whim? She didn't know anyone, she wasn't sure if she could find a job or even if she could really afford her tiny studio apartment past the next three months.

Caught between a terrifying sense of doubt, and elation, Mae stared at the boxes and bags stacked in the living area of her new space. She'd been fine up until now, when, for some reason, the small apartment suddenly seemed cramped and dark, instead of promising and cozy.

Feeling a panic attack coming on, Mae picked up the small backpack serving as her purse, and made herself leave, feeling a bit better as soon as she locked the door behind her and stepped out of the shade into the hot sunlight.

Hopping on her beloved old bike, she pushed on her sunglasses, and twisted her long, loose red hair into a knot at her nape. She looked around the quiet neighborhood, taking a deep breath of the salty air, and slowly pedaled away, admiring the wash of sand on the sides of the street, and the breeze cooling the heat in her cheeks.

* * *

Bernie and Cora Turner were an interesting old couple, seemingly attatched at the hip, and despite the amount of time they'd been talking atop of the ancient fort, the Castillo de San Marcos, Mae still found herself entertained and fascinated by their stories of their life in St. Augustine.

"Y'know, they say the ghost of a caribbean pirate haunts that beach," Cora continued mock-forebodingly, adjusting the broad-rimmed straw hat atop her short orange hair.

Bernie gave her a sharp look, then sighed, and put a gnarled hand on his wife's skirt-covered knee and squeezed fondly. "Stop it, you're going to scare her."

Cora made a funny, puckered face, and gave her husband of fifty years a loud smack of a kiss on his cheek.

Mae felt her insides cringe a little at the obvious show of love, but she couldn't help but smile. "Oh, that's cool...ghosts don't scare me. People do."

"You're too funny!" the old lady cackled.

Mae gave a helpless little shrug. She only wished she were joking.

"So, is there some kind of legend, or story about this pirate, or something?" Mae asked after a moment of staring out over the calm waters at Anastasia Island. The sun was beginning to set.

Cora snorted in her off-beat, irreverent way, and waved a hand. "Yeah, they say he pissed-off some kind of ocean deity, or something, so she _killed_ him!"

"She didn't _kill_ him," Bernie insisted, shaking his head. He took off his Navy cap and rubbed his thinning brown hair before replacing it. "She _cursed_ him."

"Same difference," Cora said snidely, slipping her husband an odd look over the rims of her dark glasses.

Mae sensed a strange vibe going on between the two, so she tried to lighten the mood. "Sounds like some kind of fairytale," she suggested with an encouraging smile. She really was intrigued, and wanted to hear more.

The still-handsome Bernie gave her a weary look from his faded brown eyes. "Yeah, well, there's no happy ending, so I wouldn't call it a fairytale," he muttered.

Mae frowned - something about this conversation suddenly felt off.

Cora cleared her throat. "Say, sweetie, why don't you come to dinner with us at the Santa Maria, eh?"

Mae opened her mouth to say no, but something in Cora's friendly, twinkling grey eyes made her hesitate. "Oh...um, I don't know..."

Cora stood up, groaning as her knees crackled, and Bernie hurried to help her. "Ouch, sat too long," the older woman groused as she collected her bag.

"C'mon, Mae - it's a cosy family place, and you are too fun to talk to," Cora pressed, reaching out to take Mae's hand as she stood up, too. "It'll be our treat, to welcome you to the city."

"Oh, I couldn't -" Mae began, but after rolling his eyes, Bernie took her other arm, and they all began to descend the tricky coquina steps.

"Let's just go, ladies - if we stand around bargaining all night, who's gonna' feed the catfish?"

* * *

It turned out there were plenty of people to 'feed the catfish'. The restaurant was obviously popular, and her new acquaintances were very well known.

Mae was nervous about going to dinner with people she didn't know, at least, at first - it didn't take long for the couple to charm her into conversation again. They really were a dear, interesting old pair.

"So, what is your last name, darling?" Cora asked as Mae watched Bernie slipping leftover tid-bits to the fish teeming eagerly beneath the trap door by the table. "Where are you from? What brings you here?"

Mae looked up at the older woman, and then picked at her tasty-but-aptly-named Shipwreck salad. She speared a bit of grilled chicken and avocado, and sighed. "Um, well...it's Hayden. I'm from Ohio, actually."

"That's quite a trip," Bernie commented.

"Quite a change of scenery, too," Cora added, breaking a crab leg with surprising strength.

Mae wanted to hide. She took a sip of her rum 'n' coke, and poked at the vibrant Captain Morgan coaster beneath it. He smirked back at her cockily, and she moved her napkin to cover him up.

"Yeah, I needed one," Mae said finally, aware of their curious and expectant eyes on her. "I was, um, engaged, before I moved here." She gave an unconscious wince, and then forced a smile. "Ian. He was a friend, for a long while, and then we got...closer." She gave a shrug, and took a sip of the drink. "It didn't work out."

"Did he cheat?" Cora asked sympathetically. She brandished the long, sharp crab-pick in her hand menacingly.

Mae gave a reluctant nod. "Kind of. He was already with somone else - they weren't married, but they had a kid, and another one on the way when I found out."

Bernie slapped a hand on the table. "_Shitbag!"_

Cora nodded solemnly in agreement. "Dick," she muttered into her drink.

Mae almost did a spit take, before setting down her drink, and laughing until tears gathered at the corners of her eyes.

They'd been chatting for a while longer when Cora found out Mae didn't have a job yet. The older woman sat back in her chair in disbelief, and looked at her husband.

Bernie tilted his head back at his wife, and even Mae could tell he was cautioning her with his eyes.

"Well, you know," Cora began, "we aren't getting around so well as we used to. I was just saying the other day, how we could use a hand around the house."

Bernie grumbled something, and reached up to rub his chin.

Cora ignored him. "What do you say, dear? Feel like helping out an old sourpuss?"

"Oh, don't talk about yourself like that," Mae blurted, and Cora grinned.

"Oh, I wasn't talking about _me_."

"Watch yourself, old woman," Bernie said threateningly, but his lips were twitching.

Mae shook her head at the couple and laughed. "How can you be so mean to each other?"

Bernie took a pen from his shirt pocket and wrote something on a paper napkin. "The day she stops insulting me is the day I start worrying if she's finally gone senile."

Cora pushed the napkin at Mae. "Our address - come by when you're done unpacking, and we'll talk shop."

Mae took it gratefully, but felt guilty. "Okay. Thank you, so much."

Bernie paid the waiter, much to the consternation of Mae, and the three of them walked out onto the pier.

* * *

Mae waved at the tailights of the big red truck as it departed, and then turned to wheel her bike back up to her apartment. She couldn't believe her good luck - what seemed like friends, and a job, dropped into her lap in the same day. Not only that, but the Turner's had also insisted on driving her home when they found out she'd been riding a bike.

"There's no way a beautiful young lady like you should be going home like that by yourself, in the dark!" Cora had announced, and Bernie had informed her it was pointless to argue.

Locking up her bike, Mae let herself into her apartment, switched on the lights, and set her bag down with an exhausted but contented sigh. Then she remembered everything she had to unpack before she could go to bed, and groaned. She shuffled over to her futon, sat down on it, then fell over face first into a pillow with a self-pitying moan.

_To be Continued_


	3. Chapter 2

**Forever and Almost Always**

Chapter Two

A moon-less night sky, two blazing tiki torches, and a wisely silent Bernie were the only witnesses to the storm brewing on the beach that night after Mae had been dropped off at her home. The hermit crabs had long since taken cover, and a weary Bernie wished he had that option as well as his ears rung with the bellowing below.

"_No!"_

"Well, she's coming, and soon, so you'd better get used to the idea!"

"Belay that, woman! I said no, and I bloody well mean, _no_!"

"Watch who you're calling 'woman', Jackie! Fifty years we've been with you, and that bloody well garners me more than a bit of respect!"

"HOW MANY BLOODY TIMES DO I HAVE TO TELL YOU? DO _NOT_ CALL ME 'JACKIE'!"

Bernie leaned over the deck railings, watching the two figures facing off in the dancing firelight, and bit his lip, knowing exactly what was coming.

"Then don't call me 'woman', and you'll watch your tone if you want to keep that silent flute of yours dangling along with your nutmegs!" Cora blasted back.

"By the -" Jack Sparrow clamped his jaw shut on the curse, glaring at his darling Cora like a demon. He fingered the pistol at his side before fisting his hand and whirling away, pacing down his beach."I haven't shot a woman yet, Cora-luv, but you're bloody pushing it! An' that's dirty-pull bringin' me manhood into question!"

Cora only lifted an eyebrow at the irate pirate captain. He knew as well as she did that his 'manhood' was about as useful as tits on a bull, and had been for over the past two centuries.

Jack paused some distance away, and heaved a great sigh, looking over his shoulder at her with a narrowed, kohl-rimmed eye. "I don't need some timid lassie weighin' me down, savvy?" he grumbled at her, resting his hand on the hilt of his time-worn sword. "Got me enough troubles already."

Cora sniffed, crossing her arms over her bosom. "Yeah, a few centuries worth!"

"Bear, ye'd best get over here and restrain your wench!" Jack roared over the waves.

Bernie came down from the large, three-tiered deck of his and Cora's beach house, and waved a hand at his oldest friend as he shuffled across the sand.

"Might as well try to rope a hurricane," he muttered as he came to a hesitant stop between the two.

"We're not going to be around all that much longer, you know, Jack," Cora tried again, a little gentler. "We don't want you to be alone."

Bernie snorted. "We don't have to worry ourselves about ol' Jack Sparrow ever being alone - all he has to do is pay the Three Bones a visit, and he won't be lacking in company."

That got a tiny smirk out of Jack, but it slid right off when Cora grunted.

"Bear...Cora, luv...must we speak of this now?" Jack sighed, and rubbed his forehead through his bandana.

"Of course not," Cora said gently, and then turned around to go back to the house, it's windows lit up in the dusk, "we can talk about it after Mae comes in the morning!"

Jack was silent for a moment longer, and then he growled, and shouted, with his arms open wide to the sky, "Are ye' expectin' me to go sweet on her, then? Expectin' me to fall in love, and then fall to me knees?" He chuckled harshly, and turned to stalk back across the sand towards Cora, who stood frozen on the steps.

Jack grinned rakishly, his teeth glimmering in the night, his eyes cold and flat. "'Cause I can tell ye' now, luv, it. Isn't. Going. To. _Happen_." He stopped on the step below Cora, and shook his head as his voice dropped, low and husky, and rough.

"I've only ever truly loved three things in me life, and that was the Pearl, treasure, an' the sea. Now I can't even love those." Jack's lips twisted as he gave the silent Cora a brief, resigned hug with one arm around her waist, and then stepped back down until he was on the beach again. He looked up at Bernie before ducking his head, and walking down the beach towards his own, more modest abode.

Bernie approached his wife with a sigh, and that was when Jack suddenly stopped in his tracks, and called back a question that made him have to strangle a laugh.

"Is she buck-toothed, hatchet-faced, missing a limb, or otherwise deformed?"

Cora shifted to throw a dirty look after the pirate. "Of course not!"

Jack threw his be-ringed hands in the air, and continued flouncing off, his boots spraying sand everywhere. "Fine then, drinks all around - just make sure your little darling is away before moonrise day after tomorrow, savvy? Or had you forgotten?"

"As if you'd let us!" Cora yelled after the departing shadow.

"You really think I'd go and blow the gab on you?"

A snarl escaped the darkness. "Allow me to respond with a resounding 'Yes'! Honestly, I dunno' how ye've kept my secret this long without spillin' it!"

"You're a fine one to be talking about secrets, Jack!"

"Give your bloody tongue a holiday, will you? Five seconds, Cora, that's all I ask!" The thump of boots on wood preceeded the slam of a door, and then all was silent.

Bernie took a deep breath, and hugged his wife around the waist.

"Do you really think this is wise?" he asked quietly.

Cora listened to the waves for a moment before sighing. "It may not be wise, but it is necessary. I'm not planning on us going anywhere in the near future, but...we're all he's got now, Bern. With us not being able to have children - "

"Ah, let's not start in on that sad subject again, sweetheart." Bernie took his wife's hands and one of his thumbs rubbed the worn-thin ring around her finger. "We were still happy, weren't we?"

Cora laughed. "Of course we were - _are_. It's just...all these years, Jack's always had something of his old friends to keep him company. Elizabeth and William's grandchildren have always been here for him to watch over, and they to watch over him. What happens when you're gone, Bern?"

"The drunken idiot will probably appreciate the quiet at long last," Bernie said, chuckling when Cora swatted him. "What? Do you really think he enjoys playing the glorified baby-sitter?"

Cora smiled. "Oh, you know he does."

Bernie grunted. "Not to hear him say it. Do you know how many times he cuffed my ears when I was small?"

"Do you remember how many times you tried to get yourself killed climbing on the fort like a monkey, and running around like a mindless savage with his sword?" Cora reminded him gently.

"I was five," Bernie countered, but felt his ears burn. He _had_ given old Jack quite the run for his money back in the day...

"I'm ready to sleep," Cora suddenly announced. "Butting heads with that thick-skulled pirate has worn me out."

"Right behind you, dearest," Bernie agreed, putting out the torches, and leading his wife up the solar-lit steps.

"You, uh, didn't happen to wear anything terribly dear to you, today, did you Mae?" Cora surprised Mae by opening the door and asking before she even managed to press the doorbell.

Mae frowned, lifting a brow as she looked down at her ratty cut-off jeans, white canvas shoes, and black tanktop over a white sports bra. She gave her plain ponytail an experimental tug, and double-checked the faded pink bandana wrapped around her forehead, and tied behind her ears.

"Uh, I really don't think so...why?" she asked the older woman, bewildered. She wasn't even wearing earrings today.

Cora opened the glass front door, and backed into the foyer of her house, inviting Mae in with a sweep of her hand, and an uncomfortable chuckle.

"Oh, it's nothing, really...it's just, we have a, er...somewhat habitually 'light-fingered' soul living on the property down the beach from us - he's harmless, really, but certain shiny objects do tend to go missing when we have guests," Cora explained lightly, clearing her throat. She closed the door behind Mae, and called over her shoulder to tell Bernie she had arrived.

Still feeling bewildered, Mae managed a smile, and looked around the beach-house with curious eyes as Cora led her through the airy, open floor plan into the kitchen. Everything was in perfect order, the plain, modern white walls and hardwood floors covered with anything from ancient antique treasures to works of art Mae recognized from this century.

Mae couldn't help but shake her head - there was no way they needed someone to clean this place! Even the floor-to-ceiling windows that looked out onto the beach and blue waters beyond were spotless!

Cora took a seat on a stool at the kitchen island, and patted the one next to her, sliding a sweating glass of tea with lemon across the counter to Mae. Mae took it gratefully, feeling thirsty after the long ride over on her bike.

Bernie came up from the beach, his sandaled feet slapping across the expansive wooden deck, and he opened the back door, coming inside the air-conditioned house with the swipe of a hand across his tanned brow.

"Hey there, Mae! Whew!" He took another glass offered him by Cora, and downed half of it before he set it down and leaned on the counter to look at them. "How are you this fine morning?"

Mae blinked. "Um, I'm okay, thanks - but there's obviously nothing for me to do here," she explained, waving a hand at her surroundings. "What exactly were you planning for me to do to earn a wage? Pretend to dust?"

Bernie and Cora exchanged a glance, and Mae fiddled with her glass.

"Weeeeell," Bernie announced after an uncomfortable silence, "we might have, er, fudged the truth a little, you see."

Cora bit her lip, and then looked at Mae's doubting expression. "It's not really _our _home we were hoping you might help with, dear."

"Oh. Well, I guess that's no big deal," Mae said slowly. "But you don't have to go out of your way to help me, honestly. I appreciate the work, but please don't try to find something for me to do just out of pity - "

"Nonsense!" Cora exclaimed. "Believe me, Mae, this is no light work. You'll be working for a wage, and that wage you'll most definitely be earning!"

Mae smiled, taking another drink. "I'm glad to hear it! Now, where exactly do you want me to star - _oh_." Mae happened to glance out the window, and almost let her glass slip right out of her hand. Her eyebrows climbed high up on her forehead, and she felt her lips fall open in surprise.

Cora turned to look, too and then nudged Bernie with a badly hidden smirk. Bernie looked out the windows, in the direction he'd just come from, and saw Jack standing out on the beach, barefoot and shirtless, resting with his hands on his hips and staring out at the ocean.

Bernie looked from Mae to his friend, and then back, and let out a faint snort, at which Cora swatted him.

Mae was oblivious to the whole exchange. She was too busy staring at the back of the man who'd just appeared out on the beach. His sudden appearance was odd enough, but the way he managed to look both perfectly at home, and totally out-of-place, made her her head spin, and her heart race.

He looked like...

Mae couldn't define the feeling the sight of the man gave her. He was tanned, naturally-so, but the deep honey color didn't hide the intricate tattoos running up, down, and around his lean-muscled arms, back, and waist. They might have continued on his shoulders, but distance and the length and thickness of his dark, braided hair hid them. He wore thin gray pants that rode low on his hips, and ended in matted threads just below his knees. She could make out a thick leather band around one strong forearm, and in odd contrast, the sparkle of what had to be half-a-dozen rings around his long brown fingers.

Mae actually felt the tip of her tongue curl inside her mouth as she got slapped with a sensation of want so strong she almost forgot she was in the presence of company.

"Mae?" Cora was asking gently, and Mae blinked, trying and failing to tear her eyes away.

"Sorry?" she murmured absently, completely adrift. God, she hadn't even seen the man's face yet, and she was sitting here getting all hot and bothered!

"His name's Jack," Cora murmured as she sidled closer to Mae. "Jack Sparrow."

"Jack?" Mae repeated distractedly, swallowing.

"Yeah. He lives just a few hundred yards down the beach," Cora said, smiling slyly. "He's the one we hired you for."

Mae's brain went fuzzy with completely inappropriate thoughts, and she had to swallow again before she made herself turn her head to look back at Mae. That was when she noticed Bernie was no longer anywhere to be seen.

"I'm sorry," Mae said again, reaching blindly for her glass and taking a long sip. "You hired me to do _what_ for him, exactly?"

Not that she really minded any possible 'what'...

Cora tapped her fingers on the counter. "Well, it's his house that really needs the tidying and all. He wasn't terribly excited by the idea, you know, him being a relatively private type when it comes to his home, but I made him see the sense in it, in the end. Poor man's been alone there so long he didn't even realize what a god-awful mess it's become." She looked at Mae with considering eyes. "Do you think you'd still be interested?"

The door suddenly opened, and Mae, who was so nervous just thinking about being around such a gorgeous man, almost fell off her stool.

"Cora-luv, I can't find me - " a deep, velvety voice, rich with a delicious, but rough british accent, boomed across the kitchen, and then stopped when its owner took note of Mae.

"Oi. Be this the wench, then?"

Mae, eyes wide, slowly turned her head, and found herself staring into the darkest, most sinful-looking brown eyes she'd ever seen.

The owner of those eyes, the man named 'Jack', had a face as beautiful as his eyes and voice, to match. Mae felt a little light-headed, her nerves crawling with excitement and terror. She felt like she had when she'd gotten to meet her favorite rock-star backstage when she was sixteen, back in Columbus - but about a hundred times magnified.

_'Please, God, don't let me throw-up,' _Mae prayed desperately.

Meanwhile, the man-named-Jack was looking at her through those curiously kohl-rimmed eyes, his expression decidedly un-impressed by her own appearance.

"Jack," Cora said in a warning-filled voice, "this is Mae. She's the nice girl we hired to help you with your house."

Jack's shiny dark eyes flickered, bored, to Cora, and then back to Mae. "'Nice', 'ay? Would I take that to mean 'keep yer' scurvy 'ands off this 'un, ye' rotten, salty, sea-dawg!'?" He swayed back on his feet slightly, and stuck his nose in the air, wriggling those long fingers at her in a somewhat unflattering way. He looked her up and down doubtfully. "Shouldn't be too much of a trial..."

Mae felt a scowl forming as she finally woke up enough to notice the way he was regarding her - like something he'd prised out of an old, washed-up shell.

Feeling let-down, and offended, Mae gave an internal sigh. It was so obvious - didn't she already know that any guy who looked like he did was bound to be a complete douche-bag?

Mae steeled herself for a confrontation, and slid off her stool. She stepped over to Jack, and gamely held out her hand, forcing a close-lipped smile.

"Hi, it's nice to meet you."

**To be continued**


	4. Chapter 3

**Forever and Almost Always**

Chapter Three

Jack drew back a little, looking at Mae's proferred hand with distrust. After a moment, he pursed his lips, which were way too soft and pouty looking for a guy, and surrounded by a scruffy dark beard and mustache. He looked down at her from beneath ridiculously dark, thick lashes, making her feel about two inches tall, and reluctantly took just her fingertips in his and gave them a perfunctory shake. He managed a pained grimace in her direction, revealing a few gold teeth.

Mae had to stop herself from rolling her eyes - had she really been so insanely and instantly attracted to this bizarre, beyond eccentric, man? Sure, she could tell he was gorgeous, and pretty, and a manner of all other flattering things under all that dread-locked hair and that beaded beard, but boy, was dealing with his personality going to be a pain-in-the-ass! She couldn't even be certain he was entirely sober at this point, what with his apparent inability to stand still.

Mae stared at him regretfully, even though she knew she wasn't the type he'd look at even if he was normal, and then forced herself to shrug. Couldn't hurt to discreetly enjoy the view while she was hanging around, right?

"Forgive me, luv, but it does seem to me that you have gone completely cross-eyed," Jack commented smugly.

Mae ground her teeth, but kept a pleasant smile on her face. "Excuse me."

"Oh, not at all - I often have that effect on people." He winked at her.

Mae groaned silently, and then smiled all the wider.

"You know, you remind me of someone..."

"I do?" Jack smiled charmingly.

"Yeah. There was this guy in Ohio who was a friend of a friend - you look just like him - except for the fact that he was, well...really _fat_."

Jack's expression went flat in an instant. "If that was meant to be flattering, luv, it _wasn't_."

"I didn't mean that _you_ were fat - it's really strange anyway. Here's this three-hundred pound guy, only with _your_ face. I mean, his face wasn't even fat. Weird, huh?"

Jack gazed at her sullenly. "Are we going to change this oh-so acutely offensive subject anytime soon?"

A loud cackle broke their conversation, and Mae turned her eyes to Cora, who was laughing with her hands over her mouth.

Mae wondered which one of them she was actually laughing at.

After a long day - a _very_ long day - digging through what was probably only a quarter of the 'treasures' in Jack Sparrows rambling wood home, which was really only a step up from a traditional shack, Mae was sitting on the Turner's deck steps with a cold bottle of water, watching the rolling tide.

Her feet were killing her, her nose felt stuffed with dust and grit, and her head was still whirling from trying to argue with Jack over what could be considered treasure, and what needed to be donated to charity or thrown away. The amount of things that looked like they should be in a museum, though, had startled her.

Mae took a long drink, taking the bandana off her head and shaking it out before wiping her face down with it. She stuffed it in her back pocket, and stood, stretching and yawning, before sighing and turning to climb the steps to retrieve her bike, and head home. She had a bit of a ride ahead of her, and the sun was starting to set.

Tomorrow was another day, and she knew she was going to need a lot of peace and quiet before she came back in the morning to deal with Jack Sparrow again.

"Oi, where do ya' think you're goin', missy?"

Mae dropped her shoulders and made a miserable face before turning to look at the man who'd tortured her throughout the day.

"I'm going back to my apartment for a shower, and then I'm going to sleep on my futon and hopefully forget to set my alarm for tomorrow. Ta!"

"Oh, no, missy...I'm not done with ye' yet."

Mae almost swallowed her tongue as she heard him walk up behind her. "W-what?"

Long fingers curled over her shoulder, and he growled in her ear, "I find myself quite thoroughly parched, and as Bear is currently occupied...how's about a drink?"

It took a while to get to the pub Jack had told her about once they had found a parking place for Bernie's truck downtown, (Mae had to drive, Bernie had told her, because Jack's failed attempts at driving were something of a legend in these parts), mostly because tourists kept stopping Jack to ask if they could take a photograph with him, and did he work as a re-enactor professionally?

Jack responded to the attention with a surprisingly free-and-easy manner, posing for photographs with complete strangers with obliging smiles, and bowing slightly with clasped hands in thanks for their impressed comments on his appearance.

Mae herself had definitely been surprised when she'd looked at him on the deck back at Bernie and Cora's and had seen his outfit. It wasn't surprising so many people thought he was a re-enactor of some sort - his clothes were authentic-looking - uncomfortably authentic, actually. They reeked of buccaneer - or maybe a more appropriate apellation would be 'pirate', because a more dangerous, dashing-looking character she had never seen.

His boots were brown leather, and worn to a pulp at the toe, and the faded textiles of his pants, striped sash, waistcoat, once-white shirt, and blue coat were rough and patched. The ornate buckles on his leather belts were tarnished and worn with wear, as were the many beads and trinkets woven into the long hair under his washed-out red bandana. Add to that the heavy dark kohl circling his animated brown eyes, and the rakish tilt of his lips, and you had a pirate who looked as if he'd stepped right out of the seventeen-hundreds.

Mae never had gotten a chance to ask him why he was dressed in costume, but maybe once they reached the pub, she'd finally find out -

"Watch the cascade, luv," Jack suddenly warned lightly, putting a firm hand on her shoulder and steering her around what looked like a drunken frat-boy vomiting in the street.

The boy's friends were egging him on, laughing hysterically at his inability to hold his drink.

"Oh, that's just disgusting," Mae said under her breath, wincing at the sounds behind them. "How can you get so drunk you'd hurl in public?"

"I've seen worse," Jack volunteered, veering gingerly around a scruffy stray dog who was doing his business against a building.

"No way." Mae wrinkled her nose, looking at him in the light of a purple neon sign in a travel shop window as they passed.

Jack shot her a completely serious look from the corners of his eyes, and drawled, "You've obviously never been to Mardis Gras."

After a 'Cheers' worthy entrance to the busy pub, _The Three Bones_, Jack ducked through a too-short doorway into what was labeled as a 'Private' room, and fell into a chair at one of six round tables in the otherwise empty room. An old stone fireplace was in one corner, with a flat-screen tv above it's wooden mantle, and there was a set of dart-boards on the far wall from the door. Mae could see the room being incredibly crowded with people on certain nights, espescially with a game on.

A pretty brunette waitress in a short black skirt, white apron, and a black babydoll-tee with a stylized white skull and crossbones on the front, arrived with two bottles of icy-cold beer, and then left as quick as she'd come with a sweet smile at Jack, who saluted her with his beer.

"Many thanks, Steffie!"

Mae looked around again, and then made a face at Jack, who was settling back in his chair, propped up on two legs, with his booted-feet up on the table.

"Do you mind?" she asked sourly, looking pointedly at his feet. God only knew what he'd stepped in.

Jack took a swig from his beer and looked away in unconcern, sighing contentedly. "Not at all, luv."

Mae rolled her eyes, and picked up the beer just to have something to do with her hands. She caught herself looking him over again, and marveled at the way she always seemed to catch something new about him everytime she looked at him. For instance, was that some kind of a _bone_ in the hair above his bandana...?

"So what's with the outfit?" she finally asked, taking a drink of the beer, and hiding her wince at its taste.

Jack's thumbs fiddled with the label on his bottle, and he grinned a little, one of his gold teeth winking at her in the light. "What'd ya' mean?"

Mae took another drink and cleared her throat. "You know, the pirate get-up? Why are you dressed like one?"

Jack finished off his bottle, and set it on the table with a loud crack. "Who said I'm only _dressed_ like one, luv?" he purred, tilting his head and leaning forward to look at her.

Suddenly unnerved by being the focus of his dark eyes, Mae looked away, and gulped the beer until she realized with a start that it was empty.

"Take away the dead-men?" asked the waitress as she reappeared and dropped two fresh bottles in front of them.

Mae frowned, confused, but Jack gave the girl a cheeky smile and a wave. "Obliged, luv," he murmured, and the girl loaded her tray with the empty bottles and walked away.

"You drink...a lot, don't you?" she asked as she watched him take a gulp of the fresh beer, not a little mesmerized by the movement of his adam's apple in his lean brown throat.

Jack sniffed as he set the beer aside and made a show of adjusting his shirt-cuffs. "I don't suppose it would be amiss to call me a friend of the bottle."

Mae couldn't help but smirk. She'd _bet_ he was.

"C'mon, luv," Jack barked, shoving her bottle over the table toward her, "tis' no fun to drink alone!"

Mae swiped at the condensation on the bottle, and made a face. She'd already forced down the other one. "I guess it's too late to confess that I don't like beer all that much."  
Jack lowered his bottle and raised a dark brow. "Well, what _do_ ye' like? The fruity stuff with the wee...parasols?" He waved an unsteady hand dismissively through the air.

Mae shrugged a little, ignoring his disgust. "Rum and Coke, usually."

Jack blinked. _"Rhum?"_

Mae blinked back at him.

"_Oi, Steffie, bring the lass a Dark an' Stormy!"  
_

At two a.m., Cora was awoken by a loud, drunken laugh, and the slamming of the screen door. She inched and groaned her way out of her comfy bed, and tied on her robe. Bernie was still snoring away, sleeping like a log when she nudged him, and she finally left him alone with an annoyed hiss and made her way into the living room.

Jack was standing there in the light from the hallway, looking far too amused for her comfort.

"Hey, Corrrrah!" Mae slurred from the half-bath doorway across the room. She used the hand she was leaning on the doorjamb with to wave, and almost fell over. "One sec," she hiccuped, holding up two fingers.

"What happened?" Cora demanded tiredly.

"I believe she's a bit maudlin," Jack explained, amused, watching the teary, tipsy Mae walk unsteadily into the bathroom and close the door.

"You got her drunk?" Cora exclaimed in a hiss.

"No," Jack said, holding up one finger, clearly offended, "_I_ got the drinks - _she_ got drunk."

"_Jack Sparrow!"_

He held his hands up. "Don't blame me!Ye' should have seen the account! An' that in addition to catchin' me at low tide! I was half-tempted to do a runner - lassie drinks like a _beast_," Jack muttered, but Cora could tell he was half-admiring Mae already.

Cora smacked him in the arm. "'Low tide', indeed! You've got more money than Midas."

"That's gold, luv. Midas had _gold_," Jack told her patiently, and she smacked him again and went to the bathroom door to make sure Mae was still standing.

"Oi, what did we say about respecting one's elders?" Jack called after her, pouting.

"Oh, go talk to your goat!" Cora snapped at him over her shoulder.

"It was _one_ time, Cora, _one_ time, and yer' never goin' to let me forget it, are ya'?"

After Cora had helped Mae get cleaned up, and into one of their guest rooms, she went out into the living room to tear Jack a new one, only to see he was nowhere to be found.

"Typical," she muttered, determined to seek the coward out. Finally, she found him out on the deck, leaning on the rail and staring out into the moonless night.

"Jack, not that I really mind, but why did you feel the need to bring Mae back here instead of to her apartment?"

Jack didn't turn from his silent regard of the night. "She was upset, to say the least. Told me about what happened to her up north. Guess she ain't over it. Was worried she might try to do something if I left her alone, ay'?" He grunted. "Couldn't very well stay wiv' 'er meself, not wiv' the moon comin' later."

Cora's annoyance with the pirate died out, and she sighed.

"What is it, exactly, yer' tryin' to prove by bringin' that lass 'ere?"

Cora stared at his back, and shook her head. "We're getting old, Jack. You're going to be alone. She _is_ alone, and she's a darling. You both need a family."

"Who says I want a family?" Jack hunched over the railing, leaning on his forearms to stare down at the sand below. His hair fell forward to hide his face. "I can't feel. I don't know what I want. Well, I know I miss me rhum...but I don't _know_ her, Cora. She sure as hell doesn't know me. I can't give 'er a family, anyway - I can't give 'er a bloody thing that wouldn't send her screaming, or enable her to leave me someday, anyway."

"She wouldn't do that!" Cora jumped in, and Jack gave a dark chuckle.

"Aye? Fine, then, let's put the lass to the test, 'ay? Let 'er stay the day, and when the moon shows it's face tonight, I'll show 'er _mine_!"

Cora flinched. "Jack - "

"Nay, we do this! She'll run, just watch - and then I'll hear no more o' this family nonsense, savvy?" Jack straightened up, and then vaulted over the railing, landing on the beach below.

"Let's just bloody get it over with," she heard him mutter as he walked away, and Cora felt her chest go tight with dread. What if she had been wrong? What if Mae really did run away?

"Oh, Jack."

To be Continued


	5. Chapter 4

_**Forever and Almost Always**_

**Chapter Four**

Jack Sparrow.

_Captain_ Jack Sparrow.

Jack lay sprawled across his ancient couch, half on it, half on the old wooden crates he used as a coffee table - not that he'd ever used it for coffee.

He stared at the rough planks that made up his wall, and wondered again where he stood. Days like this were bad for him - sometimes he would just stop and realize his life was gone. He'd recollect where he'd been, that time hadn't left him behind as it should have done, and where he was now. He'd find himself taking a step back and recalling everything he'd lost, and it would floor him. And since he couldn't drink to forget, he'd have to remember.

_'Who am I?'_

"Captain Jack Sparrow," he answered himself aloud, still unable to tear his gaze from the wall.

_'Captain Jack Sparrow was a pirate,' _his voice said inside his head, as if in disagreement.

Jack blinked slowly. "I _was_ a pirate," he told himself tonelessly.

_'Aye, __**was**__. Who are ye' now, that the bloody enchantress has given ye' your comeuppance?'_

Jack didn't have an answer for that - _again_.

He could have told himself he was still a pirate, but that would taste of a lie. He didn't steal anything anymore - bloody hell, he didn't even cheat on his taxes. Besides, what kind of a pirate actually _paid_ for anything?

Aye, it was one of _those_ days. He was drowning in numbness, his very soul scuttled on a barren beach - but it was different from the Locker. He couldn't even find solace in madness here.

Jack closed his eyes and tried to get lost in the darkness, but all he could see were faces from his past, and he couldn't even tell himself he didn't miss a one of them. Unbidden came the flash of a grin from his old first mate, a blue sky, and the top of a mast, with spars and tarred-black lines outlined against it - a deck rose, riding the crest of a wave, and fell, taking his stomach with it...

A knock sounded on his door at dusk.

Jack sat up, startled, and realized he'd fallen asleep at some point - a quick glance at the shuttered windows showed the red-orange light of sunset fading fast.

"Jack? Erm...Captain Sparrow?"

Jack swallowed, trying to wake up - he recalled dreaming about desperately trying to escape someone or other, the wind roaring in his ears, and the sea wild and spitting salt in his eyes - and then he blinked, and frowned as he recognized the voice beyond his door.

It was _her_. Mae, of the long, rich-colored red hair, and big, sad hazel eyes. The girl with a bad temper, and a kind heart, and who seemed to love rum - God help him - _almost_ as much as he used to.

The knock came again, and Jack leaned forward, rubbing his hands over his face, before standing with a sigh, and stomping to the door.

Opening it with a fling, he put an arm above his head, leaning his forehead on it, and fixed her with a bleary-eyed glare.

"Aye?" he barked, not-at-all satisfied when she jumped. He didn't want her to be afraid of him - of course, he didn't know _what_ he wanted from her in the first place...

"U-um, hi," she blurted nervously, and he noted that her own hazel eyes were still a bit blood-shot from the night before. Obviously she was still suffering from a hangover - and as much as he wanted to rub her face in it, he could tell she was jumpy. Probably from remembering all the embarassing things she'd spilled to him while drunk...

"Sorry I didn't make it over today," she continued quickly, unconsciously taking a step back from the doorway. "I actually didn't wake up until noon, and then - "

"And then ye' were too busy castin' up 'yer accounts to be bovvered, eh?" Jack interrupted with an unkind smirk.

Mae blinked at his abruptness, and then looked away, locking her hands in a knot in front of her.

"Anyway, I _am_ sorry. I don't know what got into me. I - "

"_I_ know what got into 'ye," Jack griped, remembering the check from the pub the night before, "about a fifth of_ Black Seal_."

Mae blushed, dropping her eyes to her feet.

Jack inspected her misery a moment longer before he stepped back and gestured for her to come in, bowing with a mockingly grand gesture.

"Oi, well...s'not like me'self hasn't had more'n a tot now an' again, eh?" he told her with forced joviality, reluctantly taking pity on her.

Mae stepped inside, and he shut the door behind her, leaning against it and crossing his arms over his chest. He watched her expectantly.

Mae cleared her throat, and licked her lips. "Cora said you wanted to see me?"

Jack felt one of his eyebrows pop up, and he straightened up from his slouch against the door. "Cora said?" he repeated coolly.

Mae looked confused. "So...you _didn't _want to see me?"

Jack put a finger to his chin and looked down, one arm resting behind his waist as he began a slow pace around her. He was pleased to see Mae grow ever more agitated as he neared her. It meant she had noticed him as a man, was attracted to him, but unnerved by his closeness. She didn't _want_ to want him, and was fighting it.

_Ha._

"Actually, there be somethin' I want _ye' _to see," Jack told her, hiding a smile as he stepped over her invisible boundaries and far into her personal space.

Her eyes widened as his nose came to within inches of hers, and then she stuttered, "I-It's not one of those t-shirts you were telling me about last night, is it? N-no offense, _"Pirates Do It H-arrr-der" _was pretty funny after a few drinks, but _"Avast! Pull Me Mast" _is a little - "

Jack cleared his throat pointedly, his dark eyes narrowing on hers.

Mae closed her mouth and abruptly slipped away to the side, squeezing past his hip and shoulder to sit on his vacated couch with a thump.

Jack noted how careful she was not to touch him as she slid past, and he pouted at the empty space before him before he suddenly turned on his heel and let himself fall carelessly onto the couch next to her.

Mae made a faint noise, and quickly scooted over.

Jack laid his arm along the back of the couch and lifted his bum, wedging his hip tight against hers. He walked his beringed fingers along behind her head, and then curled a lock of her ponytail-ed hair between them. He kept his expression even as she caught her breath.

Jack could see the pulse in her pale white throat beating rapidly, and had to bite his cheek to keep a wicked chuckle from escaping. He could see that she was trying hard to control her breathing, and it came as close to amusing him as anything had in years.

He gleefully ducked his head toward her, looking at her profile from beneath his lashes. "Something troubling you, dearie? You seem a bit..._nervous_," he breathed in her ear, and watched the tiny hairs on her nape stand on-end.

Mae slapped her hand on her neck, and zoomed up, off the couch. "Jack!'

"Mae!" he mock-gasped, standing up beside her again.

Mae stepped away from him. "Stop it! W-what are you doing?"

He held his hands in the air. "Nuffing!"

"Oh, no, you are definitely up to something!" Mae accused, pointing at him.

Jack smirked, taking a slow step forward, his hands still palm up. "Per'aps you would like ol' Jack to do some..._thing_?"

"W-what are you talking about?"

Jack dropped his hands and looked at her blankly. "Well, darling, if you 'aven't got a fair enough idea already, then the only person you've got to blame is the lazy sod you said cracked 'yer pitcher."

Mae made an annoyed/confused expression.

Jack made a show of looking impatient. "Y'know, 'cracked 'yer pitcher'? Picked 'yer flower? Claimed 'yer maidenhood?"

Mae shook her head. _"What?"_

"Oh, bugger it!" Jack waved his hands rapidly in front of her face. _"Took 'yer virginity?"_

Mae went white, and blood red. "I-I s-said - ?" she choked.

Biting his lip, he said doubtfully, "Mebbe' I shouldn't 'ave brought it up," he mumbled.

Mae sat back on the couch and put her head in her hands. "Oh, God - I swear I'm never drinking rum again."

Jack sighed. "Look, s'not so bad. I mean, s'not _your_ fault 'yer a friendly drunk. Me da' was one, too! S'how he ended up leg-shackled to me mum!" He smiled proudly.

"Oh, _God_," Mae muttered again.

"Mae - "

"I'm sorry, I've got to go," Mae said, and leapt up, fairly running out the door, letting it bang shut behind her.

Jack curled his hands into fists, as frustrated as he could get, but made no move to follow her. He'd been so intent on teasing her, he'd forgotten what he was supposed to show her! Blighted hell!

**To be continued**

_A/N: I take no credit for Jack's t-shirt sayings, LOL. I came across them some time ago, but I can't recall the site. If anyone knows it, I'll make sure to post it. Thanks! _


	6. Chapter 5

Forever and Almost Always

**_Chapter Five_**

Mae stopped her flight as soon as she set her hand on the door back into the Turner's home. She stood there, panting a little as she barely recalled how she'd gotten there, feeling sand in her shoes and the burn of muscles in her calves and thighs from running non-stop up the three flights of steps to the main deck.

Mae took a deep breath, and tried to shake off her anxiety. It was almost impossible to calm herself, however, especially since she'd just gotten hit on by a crazy, oddly sexy pirate - crazy, oddly sexy pirate _wannabe_, she hastily corrected herself, closing her eyes. It wasn't like he was a _real_ pirate - he was just some bored, eccentric guy who had a good imagination and too much money and time on his hands.

Mae raised a hand to rub her forehead, and stepped back from the doors, feeling incredibly guilty and stupid. God, Jack probably thought she was such an idiot, panicking like a little kid and running off - but what the hell? He had expressed that he was less-than-interested in her the day before, and for him to suddenly cozy up to her like that - no one could fault her for being mixed up and confused!

Mae bowed her shoulders, sighing deeply, and turned around to pace back across the deck. Her head was still pounding faintly from drinking too much the night before, and her stomach muscles were sore from the beating they'd taken earlier in the afternoon. She really didn't feel like going back and facing Jack again after acting like such a wuss, but running away from him wasn't going to make facing him again later any easier.

Her thighs trembling, Mae grabbed the hand rail and started back down to the beach.

Her heart was racing as she moved out of the light from the house and into the deep purple gloom as night settled. The moon was full tonight, though, and she could see a lot, surprisingly, including the tiny hermit crabs scuttling here and there across the sand, leaving little trails in their wake.

Despite her nervousness, she couldn't help but admire the pale light on the sand as she walked along, delicately high-lighting the plants, leaves and dense trees that grew between the Turner's stretch of beach, and Jack's. The moonlight made everything look like it had been laced in fairy-dust, and Mae was finally beginning to de-stress a little when she came across the straggling pile of rags dumped in the middle of her path.

Frowning and squinting, Mae took a hesitant step forward - that definitely hadn't been there when she'd been here before. The ragged heap was laying right at the end of the plank walkway up to Jack's humble-abode, and since he'd presumably never turned his lights on after she'd left, she had nothing but moonlight to see with.

After a bewildering moment, Mae was suddenly struck by the idea that the heap _was_ Jack, and she gasped, shooting forward to see if he was okay...

Jack lay facedown in the sand where he'd let himself fall. He'd walked out onto the beach as the moon finally rose, and stared at his hand as it became flesh-less, bleached-white bone, and shook it curiously as the rings on it dropped loose and jingled loudly against one another. Then he'd looked out at the beautiful, sparkling ocean - and let himself fall flat on his face. Nothing but rags and bones, he figured it was as good a place to spend the night as any. He'd finished off his rum stash earlier in the day - even though he couldn't taste it, the slight weight of the bottle in his hand was familiar, if not comforting - so there really wasn't anything else to do.

Jack was still laying there, his slight, skeletal form half-buried in the sand, and being roamed over by any number of buggering-little scavengers, when he detected movement coming from down the beach.

Expecting Bear, or Cora, he stayed still - perhaps they'd leave him alone if he just remained quiet. But then he heard a slight noise, a feminine gasp, and he turned a little, lifting his head - and looked right into the horrified, wide eyes of Mae.

Mae staggered to a stop less then a yard away as the figure in the sand moved - and shiny dark, sunken eyes in the white skull that looked up at her blinked.

Mae couldn't think - time stopped, and she felt her mouth drop completely open as the skull moved in the darkness. The figure sat up, sand pouring from it, revealing a whole, decaying, tattered skeleton.

A scream choked itself in her throat - everything in her begged her to turn and run, but she was frozen.

Meanwhile, the corpse dragged itself to it's feet - it's _booted_ feet, bizarrely enough - and then stood there, swaying a little as it shook sand from it's various parts and ragged clothing. Long, dark strands of plaited hair swung around the grinning, rotting skull, and as the creature shook it's head, she saw Jack's beads glint in the moonlight.

Mae fisted her hands, terrified, and then caught the creature's eyes again. It stood, there, still swaying a bit in an oddly familiar way, and Mae found herself taking a stiff step forward.

The dark eyes looked back at her, glinting not with the intent to kill, but with resignation. As if the creature was expecting her to freak out and run, and was somehow used to it.

Mae attempted to unclench her throat, and loosen her tongue.

"J-Jack?" she finally managed to stutter.

The dark eyes widened, and the creature took an amazingly deft step closer to her.

"Mae?" Jack's voice was slightly roughened, but it still sounded bizarre coming from the deranged-looking corpse.

Mae's breath left her in a loud rush, and then she gave a short, hysterical giggle. "Oh, my God, it _is_ you."

The corpse drew back a bit, looking her up and down. "Are you...alrigh'?" it asked with a doubtful grumble, and Mae had to laugh again at hearing Jack's voice when the the undead thing in front of her didn't even seem to have a nose, or even a throat behind the dark, ragged beard.

"I'm fine, I guess," she waved a hand, trying to look unconcerned, but felt her knees give. She ended up on her butt in the sand, and sat there, feeling shocked, until she realized she'd started crying.

"Oh, my God," she said again, swiping at her face, "what _happened_ to you?"

Jack lifted an arm to motion at the moon, revealing long, bare bones and a shredded shirt sleeve. Then he looked back at her and seemed to shrug. "Curse," he said simply.

Mae nodded as if taking it in stride. "Of course," she mumbled, trying not to stare at the holes in his cheek, which was impossible. She lifted her eyes to the moth-eaten scarf still tied around his head, and swallowed.

"Um, you have..." Mae trailed off, and then shakily stood up, and walked over to him.

Jack looked at her suspisciously as she lifted a trembling hand and retrieved a small crab from the tangles of his hair. He looked at it, faintly cross-eyed, and then shook his head, dislodging more sand.

Cradling the small hermit crab in her palms, Mae stepped back again and cleared her throat.

"Jack...I'm sorry I ran off like that earlier."

Jack looked at her as if she was completely off her nut. "You're sorry?" he repeated in disbelief.

Mae nodded uncertainly, looking at his gold teeth.

Jack rolled his eyes, and Mae flinched a little at the effect - it was more then a bit disturbing.

"Lass, ye' ran off earlier when I tried to get close, but 'ye didn't run when 'ye saw me like _this_?"

Mae bit her lip.

Jack shifted and crossed his arms over his bony chest. "Yer' hell on a man's ego, 'ye know tha'?" he commented, looking at her with narrowed eyes.

"I _wanted_ to run," Mae defended. "I _did_!" she stressed when he looked doubtful again. "I still do! No offense, but you're kinda' freaking me out!"

"Am I, then?" he asked airily, lifting a hand to look at the claw-like appendages.

"I can see your _backbone_!" Mae blurted, and then abruptly turned away, blindly looking for a safe place to put down the little crab, who was currently tickling her fingers with his feelers and spindly, tiny legs.

Mae looked down at the crab, and then held it up to look closer at it, scowling at its shiny, beady black eyes. "What are you looking at?" she muttered to it, and then set it down in a cache of rocks and greenery bordering a small tide pool.

"Mae," Jack suddenly rumbled right behind her, and Mae screamed her head off.

Heart beating in her throat, Mae spun around, breathing heavy. "Don't DO that!" she practically shrieked, and would have fallen as her heel scraped something and sent her off balance, if Jack's bony fingers hadn't reached out and caught her elbows.

The feel of cold, hard, pointy bone clutching her warm skin made her shudder, and Jack let go as quickly as he could and backed away.

Mae straightened, and put her hands over her arms, a movement Jack obviously didn't miss.

"I'm getting, um, cold," Mae said lamely, and Jack nodded glumly.

"Could we...go inside and talk, instead?"

Jack stared at her.

"Well...you can't just leave me hanging about this whole 'curse' thing," Mae explained, walking toward him, and then past him. She felt him hesitate behind her, and then the sound of his feet on the planks.

**_To be continued_**


End file.
